Teresa pressed her hands upon her eyes and temples.

"About three, I reckon."

"And you were here at seven; you could have covered some ground in four
hours?"

"Perhaps--I don't know," she said, her voice taking up its old quality
again. "Don't ask me--I ran all the way."

Her face was quite pale as she removed her hands from her eyes, and her
breath came as quickly as if she had just finished that race for life.

"Then you think I am safe here?" she added, after a pause.

"Perfectly--until they find you are NOT in Yolo. Then they'll look here.
And THAT'S the time for you to go THERE." Teresa smiled timidly.

"It will take them some time to search Yolo--unless," she added, "you're
tired of me here." The charming non sequitur did not, however, seem to
strike the young man. "I've got time yet to find a few more plants for
you," she suggested.

"Oh, certainly!"

"And give you a few more lessons in cooking."

"Perhaps."

The conscientious and literal Low was beginning to doubt if she were